


Red Juice

by Anonymous



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Addiction, Brainwashing, Butt Plugs, Cock Cages, Conditioning, Cum Addiction, Gang Rape, Kink Meme, M/M, Multi, Red Lyrium, Sexual Slavery, Sullen, Templars (Dragon Age)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-09
Updated: 2019-05-09
Packaged: 2020-02-29 23:03:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,423
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18788050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Cullen is a red templar captive. Samson gets him addicted to red lyrium but the only way he can get his fix is by getting fucked by red templars. Samson makes sure to break him until he loves it.





	Red Juice

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the kink meme prompt https://dragonage-kink.dreamwidth.org/87884.html?thread=353868876#cmt353868876:  
> \-----------  
> Cullen is captured and given to Samson as a 'gift'.
> 
> Determined to break Cullen, Samson has him raped by his men, knowing the Lyrium can be passed through cum and other bodily fluids. When he's not being 'used', Samson has a plug made of Lyrium that he uses to 'keep his seed in place'.
> 
> By the time Cullen is rescued, he's not only addicted once again but is eager to 'perform' to get his fix of Lyrium.
> 
> \+ Double Penetration with Samson fucking Cullen's ass while his men take turns fucking Cullen's mouth  
> \+ Cullen (eventually) whimpering and begging for more  
> \+ Samson referring to Cullen as his 'pet'  
> \----------  
> One change to the prompt - there won't be a rescue. If I were to write a rescue, I'd have to have 10k words of psychological healing and therapy and nobody has that kind of time.
> 
> So this will end with Cullen not exactly being happy but being *conditioned* in being happy in his role.

* * *

 

He wakes again. Every night he hopes not to wake again and every morning the Maker laughs at him and he still lives to feel the hunger. The hunger burns. It eats him, it eats his mind.

Sometimes the fog lifts and Cullen sees himself, lying in his own filth on the floor, a rag of a shirt all that's covering him. He sees how he curls up, and how the hunger makes his eyes glassy. He watches himself losing his mind to the hunger until that last bit of sanity is gone too.

"Ah, there is our pretty boy," a voice says. "Hungry enough yet? You need that lyrium now?"

Has he said no before? Has he refused to take it? Why would he? He needs it, it burns.

"Cullen?"

There is no Cullen. There is only the hunger.

"Aww, you forgot, didn't you?" The voice is almost friendly but he doesn't trust the man. Red light swirls like fog around him and he has red eyes. Those red eyes want to eat him.

"Do you remember that you remembered more, once?"

He wants to say no but it's true. He was someone once but he's not anymore. Now he's just hunger.

The red-eyed man is grinning and pulls his head up by his hair. "Did you even see that you have a friend here?" He twists his head towards another filthy figure, a smaller, younger man. He is naked, leaning over a table, his ass stretched up towards a man in armor.

Templar, his mind says and his hunger screams.

Templar.

Lyrium!

"Watch," Red-eye snarls.

The naked man whimpers and holds up his arse towards the templar, pulling his cheeks apart with bony hands. The huge templar, red crystals growing on half of his face and red light glimmering around him, takes his time to drop the bottom part of his armor. The whole time the naked man is sobbing, begging.

"Please, please, please..."

Red-eye pulls on his hair again to look him in the eyes. "Do you know what he's begging for?"

He doesn't want to know. The hunger burns and there is nothing else.

"Watch."

The templar takes out his hard cock and even down there, the eerie red light swirls around him. He presses the tip of his cock against the other's opening but stops when Red-eye yells at him.

"Use some grease for fucks sake, I don't want to waste elfroot on his ass."

"Alright," the templar grumbles. The tub of grease on the table is open and looks well used, grease smeared all over it. The templar pushes his greased up fingers roughly into the thin man's hole.

"Thank you," the young man whimpers.

"Come here, fucktoy."

When the templar pushes his cock into him, the fucktoy cries out, struggling to get a hold on the table as the templar sets a brutal pace. He fucks him halfway across the room, no care for the thin body on his cock that looks ready to break any moment. But when he comes with one last push, the fucktoy moans, his eyes rolling back in his head.

"Do you see that, Cullen?" Red-eye says. "That's how he gets his lyrium, that load there will sate his hunger for a few hours. Maybe."

The templar pulls out and the fucktoy lifts himself up on spindly thin arms. He drops to the floor and crawls over to the templar and licks the rest of his seed from his cock. He moans as he licks and sucks. His own cock is tied into a small, crude leather sock that prevents him from getting hard himself but he doesn't seem to care, as long as he can lick the templar.

The templar even strokes over his head and tells him that he's been a good fucktoy and the young man beams at him, proud and happy.

"Look how happy he is," Red-eye says. "That's gonna be you in a little while." He traces his thumb along his lip. "You were alway so sensitive for Lyrium. Do you remember how you got here, Cullen? How I fed you that bit of Blue? How good it was?"

There are no memories.

"You don't remember at all, do you?" He grabs his hair and forces him to go down on his knees. "A pity, it was a beautiful sight." He pitches his voice high, "'Don't do it Samson, don't' you cried. And you were so needy, you could smell the lyrium and then you took it."

"No," he says. A memory. He didn't take it, Samson made him take it.

"Oh yes, you did. You could have spit it out but you didn't. It was just too good, wasn't it?"

The memory fades. The hunger burns. He needs it.

"Please," he cries. Red-eye smells so good. He turns on his knees and lifts his ass like the fucktoy had done.

"Naw, come back here, you're gonna suck my cock. The Red is gonna blow your mind. If I let you have it up your arse right now, you'll probably lose whatever you have left in that brain of yours." He opens his pants and takes out his cock. He is half hard all the time from the Red and when Cullen opens his mouth, blood rushes down so fast that he sways. "Yes, suck my cock like a good cockslut."

Red light swirls around the cock and he takes it, sucking as he works it down his throat. He knows how to do this. Maybe he has done this before? With Red-eye?

"Oh, you've always been such a good cockslut," Red-eye says with a groan. "You don't remember but I do. You're made for this."

He sucks hard, gagging as the cock brushes the back of his throat but he keeps on working, swallowing it down until his nose presses against Red-eye's crotch.

"Look at you cockslut, what a good pet you are." Red-eye smiles at him and strokes over his head. Then he grabs a fistful of hair to hold him still and his hips snap forward. He thrusts into his mouth, uses him, fucks him hard.

He lets him. Nothing matters, the hunger screams and at least Red-eye smells of lyrium and he needs it, he wants it, he sucks and swallows and he would beg if he could speak.

Red-eye grabs his hair tight and thrusts into him hard and fast. "Fuck yes!" The man shudders once and pulls back a bit so that he has enough room to empty his load. "Fuck, yes, you're getting your reward now, cockslut."

Red-eye groans as he comes and his seed fills his mouth and he swallows greedily. Slowly, the hunger recedes and warmth spreads in his body. The song is not in the right tune but it doesn't matter, it sings! The lyrium sings! The hunger doesn't burn anymore and the relief builds up in rush and he's not even quite hard when he comes himself.

"I knew I should have locked up that pathetic cock of yours, now you got your shit all over my shoes." Red-eye kicks him in the stomach with his spoiled shoe and he collapses in a heap but not even that bothers him. The lyrium sings.

"Lick my fucking shoes clean, you useless lyrium whore."

He falls down on his elbows and licks his own cum from the shoes. He wants to lie down and rest, now that the hunger doesn't scream anymore and his mind is floating somewhere outside of him.

Red-eye sits down on a chair and pads his lap.

He hesitates. Without the hunger fogging his mind, it doesn't feel right anymore.

"Stay on the floor then, I don't care." Red-eye leans back, watching him. "You should feel better by now. Do you know who I am now?"

He stares at the man with his red-rimmed eyes. He's familiar but only glimpses come to his mind.

"Fucking void, you really did a number on yourself with that withdrawal. Maybe I should have given you something sooner." He strokes his chin. "My name is Samson. You will call me Samson or Master."

He nods. His throat is dry and the floating feeling is receding.

Samson leans forward with a wicked grin. "What do you think your name is?"

A word wants to come up his throat. "Cu... Cu.." The hunger is growing again, burning, and his mind is slipping. "Cu... Ca..."

"Yeah, silly pet, don't bother. That name is gone. Your new name is Cockslut."

He shakes his head. "No, not that."

"Say it. 'My name is Cockslut', say it."

"No."

"Look at that, so defiant the little cockslut." Samson gets up and picks a rope from the wall. He nods to the other templar, who is fucking the fucktoy again and unceriomonsly pulls out to help Samson. Fucktoy whines quietly.

The templar keeps him on his knees and draws his hands to his back to tie them. He's too weak to fight against him and the hunger gnaws at him again, getting more demanding with every moment.

Samson lifts his chin with two fingers. "Here's what'll happen, Cockslut. I'm going to train you and soon you'll be my happy and obedient little pet. And you're gonna love it."

He shakes his head but Samson grabs his chin and forces him to keep still.

"It's coming back, isn't it? The hunger? You tasted the Red from me and now you need it again. It's gonna burn even more and the only way you will get the Red is by being a good little cockslut." He grins and the fog of red light snakes around his neck. "Can you smell it? The Red, how powerful it is? You want it, don't you?"

He sniffs the air and shudders. His body yearns for it, he needs it, he needs it again. "Yes."

"There you go, was that so hard?" He leans down to look at him at eye level. "What is your name?"

Instead of answering, he leans forward and kisses Samson's neck. The red light flutters and it almost tastes like the real thing.

"Nice try, pet." Samson pushes him away. "What is your name?"

He turns his head away but Samson still hits him square in the face.

Samson straightens and scowls at him. "I guess I have to make my point clearer." He looks at the templar. "Put him into the pit. Put the lid on."

"Yes, Knight-Captain," the templar says and pulls him to his feet.

Once he was strong. He remembers holding a sword, fighting above a crowd of people. But now he can't fight, he is weak. He stumbles after the templar with his hands bound on his back. They walk past tents and huts, templars watching them. It smells of Red and the grating song of red lyrium invades him from all sides.

Far away from the camp, the templar uncovers a hole in the ground. He drags him over, unties his hands, and grins. Before he can protest, the templar pushes him into the hole, throws a waterskin after him and then drags a heavy lid over the hole.

It's dark. He's alone. There's not enough air. The hole is too small. Demons. Demons will come. He screams.

Light blinks through the gaps in the lid and disappears again. By the third time, his screams have turned silent, his voice is gone. The waterskin is empty and the hunger burns in him. Now that he can't scream anymore, he listens, listens for footsteps coming to get him. But there are none. They don't need him, they've forgotten him. He hungers, he's dying.

His fingers are bleeding. He tries to climb the walls but he falls. The darkness swallows him again as he falls into a heap. The hunger burns, screams, the song too quiet.

Footsteps, voices. The lid gets pushed to the side. It's not quite dark outside and he can make out three faces looking down on him.

"Get him out."

They pull him up and throw him on the ground. They smell of red lyrium, sweet lyrium, the song, he needs it, he burns.

"I have some water for you and more," Samson says.

He drags his body over to Samson and kisses his boots.

Samson holds the waterskin to his lips and he suckles on it. The water is good but it's not what he craves, what he needs. When the skin is empty, he raises himself on shaking arms and presses his nose to the bulge in Samson's pants. A whine leaves his throat. He needs it, why isn't he giving it to him?

"You know what you need, pet, don't you?" He opens his pants and holds his cock in his hand, slowly rubbing himself. Another templar holds Cullen back and the tip of Samson's cock almost touches his lips. "I know you want it. And you're gonna get it, you just have to tell me your name."

He strains against the hold of the templar. He can smell the Red, he's almost there, why does the man keep talking? A slap in his face brings his attention back to what he is saying.

"Oy, I asked you a question."

"I'm sorry," he croaks, voice rough from screaming and thirst. Another slap to his face.

"Answer me. What is your name?"

He looks up to Samson. He has to answer but what is the right answer? If he doesn't say the right thing, Samson will leave and the hunger will burn him alive. He has to have it, he needs to suck that cock, the hunger demands it.

"What is your name?."

"Cockslut," he whispers.

"Louder."

Cockslut looks up to Master Samson and smiles. It's the right answer, he's gonna be rewarded for that answer. The hunger hums in expectation. "My name is Cockslut."

Samson laughs out. "Good little pet. Here, get your juice."

He surges forward and sucks Master's cock into his mouth, licking and sucking as best as he can.

Samson grabs his hair and yanks his head forward. "Cover your teeth and hold still, Cockslut." And then he fucks his throat, giving his cockslut barely a chance to breathe. "You're so good. Such a good cockslut, you're earning your juice." He looks at his cock disappearing between those beautiful lips, the red fog twirling around his lips. His cockslut is so pretty with his eyes wide and glassy, and how he chokes and coughs around his cock. When Samson comes with a groan, Cockslut closes his eyes and swallows. A serene smile spreads on his face as the tension leaves his body.

"Ah, that's good stuff, isn't it?" Samson asks as he pulls back.

Cockslut doesn't want to let go, he's still licking. That cock smells so good.

"You need more juice?"

"Yes, please."

"You're in luck, we got quite the party planned for you. Come, they're all eager to meet you." Samson tugs himself into his pants and walks towards the camp. He doesn't look if his cockslut follows him and his templars don't check either. He knows he will follow, the hunger will make sure of it.

They leave him and he isn't bound. He could run. But where would he go? How would he get the Red? The hunger is quiet for now but soon it will rear its head again, making him yearn for the song. If he stays with the templars, he'll get all the Red he needs. He scrambles to his feet and runs after them.

Samson hears him approach and looks over to him. "There's my pet. I knew you'd come. You love cock and you love the Red, don't you?"

"Yes."

"Yes what?"

"Yes, Master."

"Such a fast learner. I know you will take this job seriously. Lev, clean him up, I don't want a dirty treat at our party."

After he has been cleaned thoroughly with cold water and even gotten some bread to eat, Lev hands him a fresh shirt to put on.

"Hurry up, they're all waiting for you."

He throws the shirt over his head and doesn't bother with lacing the front. The hunger is coming back, crawling up his spine like flames. He needs the Red, he needs the juice. Lev leaves the tent and Cockslut follows him eagerly.

The party is already on, a fire burns brightly and mugs of ale wander from man to man. The templars sit and stand in a circle around a high bench, red crystals glowing on them. Samson grabs Cockslut's hand and pulls him towards the bench.

"Men, I got a present for you. This is my new pet and I'm gonna share him with you all." Loud shouts of praise for their leader come from the group. When the noise has died down again, Samson lowers his voice. "Some of you may remember him as someone else but we don't want to remind him of that. That one is gone. Now he's a good, greedy pet. Tell them, what's your name, pet?"

Everything smells of Red and the hunger gnaws at him. "Cockslut," he says cause that's what he is. He needs the Red. They all smell so good. He'll be a good cockslut.

"That's right. Now, since he's my pet, I'll get his ass first. And because you cleaned him so well, you'll get his mouth, Lev. Afterwards, the rest of you can fill him with cum." Samson turns to Cockslut and grins. "Get on the bench, Cockslut. I'm gonna tie you up so that you don't fall down."

Cockslut hurries to bend over the bench. The hunger is screaming again, screaming with the song. Samson spreads his legs apart and ties his ankles, knees and hands to the legs of the bench. When he's made sure that the ties are secure, he hits Cockslut on his ass a few times.

"Now listen up, assholes. I know you like to be rough with your toys but this one is special." Samson hits him again, leaving red handprints on his ass cheeks. "This is my personal pet that I'm sharing with you, I'm the only one who gets to hurt him." He strokes almost lovingly over Cockslut's ass and holds up the tub of grease with the other. "Grease him up when you use him, I want him to last."

Cockslut squirms, his cock hangs heavy between his legs, hard and dripping. But that's not what he needs. The smell of red lyrium is everywhere around him, the song pulling at his nerve and he needs it. He needs to be filled.

Samson spreads a slap of grease between Cockslut's ass cheeks. "Do you want it, Cockslut? Do you want my juice?"

"Yes, Master, yes please." He stretches his ass towards the Master, as far as he can. Why is he waiting? Why doesn't he give it to him already? Hasn't he done everything right? Why is Master not giving him his juice? "Please, please Master."

Samson aligns his cock with Cockslut's opening and drives into him with one push.

Cockslut screams and then whines as Samson drives in and out of him, setting a fast pace. The pain soon turns to pleasure, changing Cockslut's whines into moans.

Lev takes his mouth, grunting as he thrusts into him. Cockslut angles his head to take him deeper, swallowing around his cock. The binds hold him, all he has to do is keep his mouth open and relax his ass. Red light dances in his vision. Soon they will give him what he needs.

Lev spills down his throat and he swallows, eagerly, hungry. Samson takes longer this time, having spent himself once already but the Red gives him good stamina. He comes after a few hard thrusts and Cockslut cries out in relief when his cum warms him.

The hunger recedes and he sinks into the binds. Another takes his ass and a new cock pushes into his mouth. They fuck him, laughing as their rhythm syncs up and they both push into him at the same time. They even come at the same time and Cockslut is filled again, adding to the song. He pants with his mouth open, inviting the next templar to give him his red juice.

More and more they fill him. The hunger disappears, instead he is floating, his body buzzing, singing with the Red. At some point he must have come himself, his seed drips down his leg but the sensation pales compared to the rush of the song. Someone fills his ass again and another rush cuts through him with the red song.

"Look how good you are," Samson whispers right next to his ear. Another templar finishes in his mouth, waiting until Cockslut has swallowed everything. For a moment, no cock is in him and he floats on the red bliss.

"Aww, you love it, don't you, Cockslut?"

He swallows again, careful to not waste any juice. "Yes, Master."

"You're doing such a good job," Samson strokes over his back to his ass and looks at his red rimmed hole. "You're dripping, Cockslut. You don't want to waste it all, do you?"

"No!" Cockslut clenches his ass as best as he can but there is so much, he keeps on leaking.

"Luckily, I have just the thing." Samson comes back to his head and holds out a blue glowing plug. "Made from pure, blue lyrium. It'll keep you filled and a bit on that lyrium high but not quite like the Red. It won't be the same. Won't be enough." He goes back to Cockslut's ass and pushes the blue glowing plug into him, watching with a smile as his well fucked hole closes around the tapered base of the plug.

Cockslut moans. It's the Blue, the beautiful song, the true one, and it sings for him, filling him. The red song wraps around it, dances with it, and he floats. Pleasure crawls up his back, soft like a sweet caress and for a moment everything is right. But it's not enough. The soft caress doesn't make him feel sated. He whines and opens his mouth again, waiting for someone to give him what he needs.

"More, please," he whimpers. "Please..."

Samson laughs. "Looks like our little cockslut is ready again, boys."

Someone fills his mouth again and his own seed trickles down his leg again when the red and the blue song crash into each other in his mind. Again and again they fill him, until his mind floats away.

***

The sun shines on his head, warming him. Master lets him wear a coat now because it has gotten very cold. He even has a special pair of trousers now, made from soft leather. Nobody else has such nice leather and it makes it easier for him to kneel. Master Samson had them made specially for him. The part over his ass is cut away to give easy access to the harness he wears all the time now.

Cockslut enjoys the sun a bit longer but soon he gets restless. It has been a while since he has been filled and he can't neglect his purpose. Red fog dances in his vision, taunting him. Sauntering over to the red templars sitting at the fire, he drops to his knees as soon as they watch him and crawls the last bit.

They love it when he crawls, it makes them hard. He turns his ass to them and throws the coat up over his back to invite them. Sometimes they only want his mouth and he always makes sure that he does a good job with that but he prefers taking their cocks in his ass. That's his purpose and that's where their juice feels best.

"Come back later, Cockslut, I'm busy," the templar barks.

He turns back around and ducks his head. "Yes, Serah." He crawls over to the next tent. He's not worried, there's other templars and they all want to fill him. They don't let him starve for it anymore, Master Samson has forbid it. He doesn't want his pet to get damaged by the hunger.

"Hey, Cockslut, come here," someone calls to him and he crawls over as fast as he can. He's the only cockslut here, they all need him. The templar makes him turn around and Cockslut is giddy with excitement. This one wants his ass! How he loves taking cock there.

He holds still as the templar unclips the harness that holds the blue glowing plug in place. It's still attached to the leather band, Master Samson wants to make sure that it doesn't get lost. It dangles between his legs as the templar pushes into his ass. Cockslut pants, holding his mouth open invitingly, in the hope that someone else will help him to fulfil his purpose.

"So busy again, my pet?" Master Samson comes to him, stroking over his cheek. He leans into the touch and nuzzles Master's leg. Master smells so good and always touches his cheek and maybe he wants his cock sucked. Cockslut holds his mouth open and whimpers, looking up to the red eyes that watch him so lovingly. At last, Master frees his cock and pulls him up to fuck his mouth. Cockslut cries out in joy, finally he is filled. He has a purpose.

They thrust into him, shaking him to the core but Master holds him by the hair and strokes his cheek and he's good at this, he knows his purpose. Soon they fill him. The rush of the Red buzzes through him and he invites the floating feeling in. His own cock is trapped tight in a leather sock so that he won't spoil his good trousers but he doesn't care. The Red is so much better.

The other templar pulls out and another takes to his hole, grunting as he hurries to add his load. Master Samson pulls out slowly, letting the tip of his cock rest on Cockslut's lips. Cockslut kisses the tip, sucking off the last few drops of cum. Master's juice is the best.

"You're so good at this, Cockslut," Master says, stroking his cheek. "Do you feel good now, always filled with our juice?"

"Yes, Master, I feel good." It's the best feeling to float on the Red, better than anything else.

"You do such a good job, really good, Cockslut. You love it, don't you?"

Cockslut beams up to him. The Red sings his song. "Yes, Master, I love it".

* * *

 


End file.
